Land Locked Blues
by Katbin
Summary: How the Courier says goodbye to Boone. Kind of a bummer, really. Give a listen to "Land locked blues" by Bright Eyes.


_If you walk away, I'll walk away. First tell me which road you will take. I don't wanna risk our paths crossing some day, so you walk that way I'll walk this way._

Leaving him was one of the hardest things I've ever done and compared to the average person, I've done some hard things. Separating myself from the person that had saved my life countless times, walking away from the only person I'd ever told my story to, it felt like a knife was being plunged deftly between my ribs. All morning my breathing had been shallow and ragged, my hands had shook as they opened the motel door. No longer was I the competent Courier that had traveled the wastes and fought alongside the NCR at Hoover Dam. I'd been reduced to my emotions and to put it mildly, they were a wreck.

We were back to where our story together had begun. Novac, the first town I had stumbled upon after Goodsprings. Christ that had been forever ago. He had been so serious and dour then. There really hadn't been that much of a surface change after all of our travels but the Boone I'd met then compared to the one still asleep in our bed now were two very different men. Agony clenched around my heart and twisted, I gripped the rusted railing and choked around a sob. This is what he wanted, I reminded myself, he wanted to move on from the Mojave. I wouldn't stand in his way.

Below me in the open yard of Novac, Manny Vargas talked to the replacement Watchmen in hushed tones. It was still early. The sun was just beginning to peak over the flat horizon and it casted a haunting light onto the giant Dino. These boys were going to take over as protectors; they would make the decisions now. Friend or foe, shoot dead or save. I wondered what they had given up to come here, who they had left behind. Not everyone had a story like Boone did. Maybe these two had just needed a steady pay and a room to call their own.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts I hadn't even heard him wake up and get out of bed. I'd missed the stumbling towards the open door, jumped when his arms wrapped around my torso. He was solid behind me. I realized this was the last time he'd be with me like this. This time I held back the sob, shoved it deep down in my chest and tried to breathe properly around it. I felt Boone's chin rest on my shoulder; I catalogued the feeling of his stubble against my skin.

"You could always come with us," he mumbled in that all too familiar hoarse voice of his.

I shivered as it rushed through me and eventually shook my head. "We've talked about this."

The grip on my middle tightened and he pulled me closer. "What's so intriguing about the Sierra Madre, anyway? The transmission you got is probably as old as the hills."

"I don't have a place in the First Recon, we both know it."

His abrupt nature had rubbed off on me long ago and as soon as I splayed out the truth he let me go. Of course I would push him away in our final hours together. The misery inside of me urged to turn around and crawl back into his arms. I considered it. No. My control was coming back to me now; the voice of reason had finally put my ragged nerves and boisterous emotions back in check.

I could hear Boone getting ready to leave. The thump of his pack on the bed made me turn around. It was all real now, it was actually happening. Even if reason had taken point my body was still trying to rebel against it, my knees trembled at the sight. Normally my own bag would be right alongside his and we'd be moving nimbly around one another to make sure our supplies were ready. Now my bag sat like a neglected creature on top of the dresser. Empty. Boone was going on an adventure that I could not follow him on. My stomach churned.

Unsure what to do, I fluttered by the doorway and watched him fill the canvas pack. The muscles in his back rippled under his shirt as he reached into the gun cabinet to retrieve his rifle and a spare pistol. He moved with purpose to each stash of goods. We still hadn't sorted out our possessions into neat camps of Boone and Courier but he picked out what was his like we already had. We lived comfortably amongst one another, our possessions were no different, and time had erased any lines between us. Years of wandering together did that to people.

Before I realized it, he was zipping the pack and slinging it over his shoulder. Boone met me at the door with that signature terse expression and shades, his beret resting on top of his head. This was the man that I'd grown to love, this was the man that held my heart in his hands. I wondered if he knew how fragile it was. I couldn't help myself and reached out to touch his face. The skin was smooth under my hand and he unconsciously leaned into the caress. There it was again, that stab in between my ribs. My face contorted against my will and I felt the moisture gathering at the corners of my tired eyes.

"Take care of yourself," I whispered.

He nodded. "Same to you."

I kissed him then, too cowardly to actually say goodbye. This was likely to be the last time I would see him. Saying that word would be final, there would be no going back after it passed through my lips. I resorted to ignoring the word all together. The exchange was earnest and desperate, his lips ghosting over mine several more times as we pulled away. I heard Manny calling out to him and then Boone wasn't with me anymore. He was already down the stairs and making his way towards the chain link gate by the time I came back to reality.

Then he was gone. He'd gone one way, I'd go the other.

 _But it all boils down to one quotable phrase: 'If you love something, give it away'._


End file.
